A/N: This was a challenge from Toasty. Not very fun, but there you have it. Luna Lovegood/Draco Malfoy. Draco's in his sixth year and Luna's in her fifth year. Start of term. It's mainly dialogue.
Disclaimer: All JK's.
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"Can't you see them?" She asked softly to the boy by her side. He looked deep in thought as he stroked his chin.
"Oh it's you," he said, "the whole train was talking about you. Luna. Luna Lovegood. Your Father writes for the Quibbler right? That awful, awful magazine."
She looked taken aback but soon regained her composure, "it's a nice magazine," she said simply. "And I'll have you know that my Father is the editor!"
"Yeah. And what about your Mother?" He asked nastily.
"She died."
"Did she?" He asked, his tone changing slightly. "Did she really?"
"Yeah," Luna said with a sigh, "yeah she did. Can you see them?"
"The thestrals? Yes."
He glared at her.
She certainly was, well, strange. There was no nice way of saying it. The girl had messy dirty blond hair and silver, moon-like eyes. She wore a necklace made of butterbeer caps and had a book-bag that was written all over it. She had dangly earrings in the shape of large parallelograms.
"They're pretty," she said after a short silence, "aren't they?"
"Oh they're lovely," he replied caustically with a roll of his eyes.
"Yeah," she said with a shrug, "they are. I've seen them for ages upon ages."
"Have you?" He asked, slightly interested. "I wonder when the carriages will leave."
"It's silly," she commented dryly, "isn't it? I mean, not too many people can see the thestrals, it's like a really nice secret."
"Lovegood," he said, cutting to the chase, "who died?"
"I already told you," she said, slightly impatiently, "my Mother."
"And you were--"
"--nine."
"You were just a little kid," he said.
"Yeah," she said, "well, stuff happens. Mummy always did have a love for experimenting with dark spells. Not the smartest lady."
"Apparently not."
"So, Malfoy," she said, "it was your Grandfather, wasn't it?"
"How do you know?" He snapped.
"Well isn't it obvious?" She said. "Someone who works for my Father wrote an article about Senior Malfoy in the Quibbler. Nice article. I heard your Father beheaded muggles for fun, eh?"
"That was the pinnacle of his life," Malfoy responded dryly.
"So you saw it?"
"Saw him croak?"
"Yes."
"Yeah I did, Lovegood."
"Was it awful?" She asked, oblivious to the people around her.
"I don't know," the elder said, "it was like he was choking or drowning...or something."
"Oh," she said as though she knew JUST what he was talking about, "oh. Well, that's awfully sad."
"No it wasn't," he chuckled, "stuff happens. How old was your Mother?"
"Twenty six."
"Very young," he observed, "so you were born when she was just seventeen?"
"Yes," Luna said with a nod, "yeah, it was like that."
"People are starting to load into the carriages," the young man said as he stuffed his hands in his pocket.
"I wish I could see the thestrals more," she said, stroking a particularly unfriendly looking one.
"Doesn't it remind you of your Mother?" He asked.
"Yes," Luna said with a cluck of her tongue. "It does. So...?"
He looked at her, surprised. "I thought you'd be...crying or something."
"God, no," she laughed, "no. I'm fine, Malfoy. Not like you care anyway. Let's get in the carriages, shall we?"
"Yeah," he agreed.
He kissed her quickly on her strawberry-jam colored lips and Luna's silver eyes looked dazzled. She took a quick step back and touched a finger to her butterbeer-cap necklace. Then she smiled a wiggly smile.
Well that was unexpected.
"Stuff happens," he said with a nonchalant shrug.
"It certainly does," she replied as he helped her up to the carriage.
The thestrals were forgotten.
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Disclaimer: All JK's.
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"Can't you see them?" She asked softly to the boy by her side. He looked deep in thought as he stroked his chin.
"Oh it's you," he said, "the whole train was talking about you. Luna. Luna Lovegood. Your Father writes for the Quibbler right? That awful, awful magazine."
She looked taken aback but soon regained her composure, "it's a nice magazine," she said simply. "And I'll have you know that my Father is the editor!"
"Yeah. And what about your Mother?" He asked nastily.
"She died."
"Did she?" He asked, his tone changing slightly. "Did she really?"
"Yeah," Luna said with a sigh, "yeah she did. Can you see them?"
"The thestrals? Yes."
He glared at her.
She certainly was, well, strange. There was no nice way of saying it. The girl had messy dirty blond hair and silver, moon-like eyes. She wore a necklace made of butterbeer caps and had a book-bag that was written all over it. She had dangly earrings in the shape of large parallelograms.
"They're pretty," she said after a short silence, "aren't they?"
"Oh they're lovely," he replied caustically with a roll of his eyes.
"Yeah," she said with a shrug, "they are. I've seen them for ages upon ages."
"Have you?" He asked, slightly interested. "I wonder when the carriages will leave."
"It's silly," she commented dryly, "isn't it? I mean, not too many people can see the thestrals, it's like a really nice secret."
"Lovegood," he said, cutting to the chase, "who died?"
"I already told you," she said, slightly impatiently, "my Mother."
"And you were--"
"--nine."
"You were just a little kid," he said.
"Yeah," she said, "well, stuff happens. Mummy always did have a love for experimenting with dark spells. Not the smartest lady."
"Apparently not."
"So, Malfoy," she said, "it was your Grandfather, wasn't it?"
"How do you know?" He snapped.
"Well isn't it obvious?" She said. "Someone who works for my Father wrote an article about Senior Malfoy in the Quibbler. Nice article. I heard your Father beheaded muggles for fun, eh?"
"That was the pinnacle of his life," Malfoy responded dryly.
"So you saw it?"
"Saw him croak?"
"Yes."
"Yeah I did, Lovegood."
"Was it awful?" She asked, oblivious to the people around her.
"I don't know," the elder said, "it was like he was choking or drowning...or something."
"Oh," she said as though she knew JUST what he was talking about, "oh. Well, that's awfully sad."
"No it wasn't," he chuckled, "stuff happens. How old was your Mother?"
"Twenty six."
"Very young," he observed, "so you were born when she was just seventeen?"
"Yes," Luna said with a nod, "yeah, it was like that."
"People are starting to load into the carriages," the young man said as he stuffed his hands in his pocket.
"I wish I could see the thestrals more," she said, stroking a particularly unfriendly looking one.
"Doesn't it remind you of your Mother?" He asked.
"Yes," Luna said with a cluck of her tongue. "It does. So...?"
He looked at her, surprised. "I thought you'd be...crying or something."
"God, no," she laughed, "no. I'm fine, Malfoy. Not like you care anyway. Let's get in the carriages, shall we?"
"Yeah," he agreed.
He kissed her quickly on her strawberry-jam colored lips and Luna's silver eyes looked dazzled. She took a quick step back and touched a finger to her butterbeer-cap necklace. Then she smiled a wiggly smile.
Well that was unexpected.
"Stuff happens," he said with a nonchalant shrug.
"It certainly does," she replied as he helped her up to the carriage.
The thestrals were forgotten.
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